New Flavors
by LoveHGSS
Summary: Hotch finds Emily eating a popsicle in bed. Smut ensues. Shameless PWP!


Hotch finds Emily eating a popsicle in bed. Smut ensues. Shameless PWP!

This story is dedicated to theotherhalfofmybrain (LadyBellestrist), who made me crave bananas and this is what happened as a result of it. And also to Poucelina79 for being so ridiculously kindhearted and excited about my Hotly stories.

**Warning – 18 and over **_**only**_**, please. Descriptive sexual content, cursing.**

"And to think, you were the one who issued the 'no food in bed' rule."

Emily looked up quickly, her eyes wide. Her face clearly told him she hadn't been expecting him so soon, and he couldn't help but chuckle at her expression.

"Sorry," she said, looking like she genuinely felt bad. "I just… really wanted a popsicle."

"What flavor?" he asked, shedding his suit jacket.

"Banana," she replied, suddenly engrossed in the way he stripped off his tie, throwing it to join the jacket on the chair in the corner of their bedroom.

He wrinkled his nose. "Banana? Who eats _banana_ popsicles?"

Emily scoffed. "I do!" she said indignantly. "They're delicious, Aaron. Have you ever had one?"

He shook his head, toeing off his socks and unbuttoning his white shirt. He smirked when he saw she was watching his fingers meticulously sliding each button through the hole. Emily watched with hungry eyes as he undid his belt, leaving his shirt on but completely undone, showing just a strip of his muscular chest and stomach. She unconsciously licked her lips when he shimmied out of his pants and briefs, not bothering to hang the slacks up like he usually did as he watched her plump lips wrap around the small amount of yellow popsicle she had left.

"That's kind of sexy," he purred, kneeling on the bed and making his way to her.

Her legs instantly opened to welcome him, giggling as he licked the corner of her mouth.

"These blankets need to be moved," he muttered, shifting around on the bed so he could uncover her. A small gasp caught in his throat when he saw she was wearing nothing but a white frilly garter.

"I was hoping to surprise you," she explained. "But… I really wanted the damn popsicle."

He chuckled and resettled between her legs on his knees, yanking her down the bed so she was completely flat on her back. "Baby, this is a great surprise. Nice touch with the garter, too."

"Well, you really loved removing it a few weeks ago," she said breathlessly as his hands began to skim the insides of her thighs, never quite reaching where she suddenly wanted his long fingers.

He hummed lowly, dropping his face to hers and kissing her quickly. "You're the one who told me to do it with my teeth," he reminded her. "In front of both of our families, I might add."

She giggled. "They couldn't see you," she said playfully. "My big beautiful wedding dress covered it, thank you very much. Enough so that you were able to pull off that very inappropriate touch to my –"

Emily's words were cut off as Hotch hastily slid a finger through her moist folds, showing her he knew _exactly_ where he had touched. Her back arched as he teased the outside of her lower lips, coating his finger in her juices, spreading it around before dipping a single digit into her awaiting heat, slowly moving it in and out of her before repeating his previous action.

"Oh," she gasped out. "Let me at least… oh, God… finish… uh… my popsicle."

With his free hand, he reached up and grabbed the wooden stick with a small amount of popsicle left on it. "Well, since I've never had one," he said nonchalantly, his finger once again delving into her core. "Maybe if I mix it with my favorite flavor, it will be even more delicious."

Emily cried out as Hotch touched the frozen treat to her clit, removing his finger from her drenched tightness in order to slide it around freely. Emily screamed his name when he twisted it against her overheated core, the cold feeling so good against her yet not enough to create the friction she truly needed. She bucked her hips toward him, begging. She watched in stunned silence as Hotch brought the popsicle up to his lips, a loud moan ringing out into the room as he licked it, the mixture of the banana and her unique flavor exploding his taste buds.

"Oh, wow, that's hot," Emily panted.

"Mmm, it's actually quite cold," he murmured, his tongue lapping at the popsicle. "However, I'm sure I could find something hot to taste."

"I'm sure you could," she said with a sexy smile, not able to look away from Aaron as he took a last lick, holding out the wooden stick for her to hold.

She took it hastily, anxious to know what he was planning to do next. Emily chewed on the inside of her bottom lip as Hotch took off his shirt, tossing it haphazardly over his shoulder. His hands once again rubbed up and down her thighs, occasionally stopping to dig his fingers into her supple flesh, loving how she'd take in a harsh breath. After what felt like hours of torture, Hotch slowly laid on his stomach, his arms going beneath her thighs, wrapping around them and roughly pulling her dripping pussy to his mouth.

"Oh fuck," Emily cried out, Hotch wasting no time in slipping his tongue around her most intimate area.

He hummed his approval of her dirty mouth, something she knew damn well he liked almost as much as sex itself… almost. Her fingers slid into his inch length hair, her back arching and her hips rising off the bed when he buried his face into her soaked cunt, his lips and tongue scouring her from top to bottom. He moaned as he tasted her, the faint flavor of banana making him only want more. His arms tightened around her thighs, keeping her hips from bucking as he penetrated her with his tongue, her slick velvet walls contracting around him as his tongue darted in and out of her.

"Holy shit," Emily squeaked out, surprised she still had a voice.

"You taste so good," Hotch groaned, only stopping long enough to say that before roughly reinserting his tongue, making fast circles within her, knowing exactly how she liked it.

"I love that," she moaned, unconsciously pressing his head closer.

He hummed his agreement, sending a low vibration through his lips and tongue, making her cry out and thrust against his mouth. Sensing she needed more friction than what only his tongue could give, he retracted one arm from beneath her, barely giving her a second's notice before he plunged two fingers deep into her sopping core. Emily's hands pulled at Hotch's hair, not able to find any words within her vocabulary but a few choice curses, which she screamed loudly when his lips wrapped around her sensitive clit. He sucked the nub into his mouth, his teeth scraping over it lightly, forcing another loud moan from the brunette.

"I am going to make you cum so hard you won't be able to think, let alone walk, properly for a week," Hotch growled, pulling back and looking directly into her eyes, which were now wide and watching him, his fingers still unmoving within her tight passage.

"Then fuck me," she begged, attempting to rotate her hips, but he held her in place. "_Please_!"

"Since you asked so nicely," he muttered, dipping his head back down in order to capture her clit again. A satisfied sigh left Emily as he very slowly withdrew his fingers, but screamed his name as he slammed them back in. It felt as if it went on like that for hours, and hours, and hours, when in reality it was only a few minutes of his torturous pace. "I need your opinion, Emily."

"Anything," she groaned.

"Should I let you cum around my fingers or should I wait until I'm buried deep inside you?" he asked, flicking his tongue over her swollen pebble.

"Both!" she cried out, on the fast track to what was sure to be a powerful orgasm.

"Mmm," he murmured against her throbbing clit. "Horny little slut, aren't you?"

Emily arched, the mixture of his words, mouth, and tongue bringing her to the edge of pure bliss. "Filthy whore," she agreed.

"Who's a filthy whore?" he asked, ceasing all movement simply because he knew how close she was.

"I am!" she cried out in irritation. "I'm your filthy little horny slut who wants nothing more than to cum all over your fingers!"

Hotch's already hard cock throbbed with her words, but he decided to oblige his wife's wants before taking her in the way he desperately needed to. His digits plunged into her soaked pussy, his tongue lapping at her nub at a pace that should have been illegal. Emily's toes curled and her eyes rolled to the back of her head as she clenched around his fingers, a strangled moan ringing out through the room as he finally, _finally_, brought her to that peak of pure ecstasy. Emily thrashed on the bed, unable to help it, rising her hips up higher to press against him. With one last near-violent convulsion, she flopped back onto the bed, panting with exertion. She sighed in contentment and newly arising desire as Hotch continued to clean her, ever the thorough one.

"And now," he whispered in a low, deep, sexy voice as he crawled up her body, his lips ending up just beside her ear, "I'm going to give you a treat."

"Another popsicle?" she asked breathlessly.

"Need an oral fixation?" he asked with a soft chuckle.

She shook her head.

"You're so damn wet," he purred into her ear as his obvious erection pressed against her sex.

"Mmm," she hummed, turning her head and placing a wet kiss against a particularly sensitive spot on his neck. "Well, why don't you shove a big... juicy… _hard_ popsicle in and find out just how wet."

Hotch couldn't help but laugh lightly at her euphemism. He pulled back and locked eyes with his wife for only a moment before taking her mouth the same moment he reached a hand between them, lining up him painfully erect cock at her soaked entrance and proceeded to make good on his promise of a second orgasm.

Banana popsicles were suddenly a hot commodity in the Hotchner household.

_A/N – Thanks for reading! Reviews are like sweet iced tea on a hot summer day! Please take just a moment to leave a quick (or long!) review!_


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